Theater
by ayelles
Summary: A string of missing scenes that lead up to Theresa's phone call to Ryan in Portland. One-part.


Theater

Summary: A string of missing scenes that all lead up to Theresa's phone call to Ryan in Portland.

XXX

When Ryan left for Portland, Theresa knew she had to.

It wasn't worth lying to herself everyday. Every single day, like the past three months. She kept telling herself that he was there for her. He was there for her because he loved her. He was there for her because he knew she loved him.

But he didn't.

It was hard and cold and mean. But it was true. And she couldn't deny it any longer. He sat in the front seat of her car but he was never really there. He shared her bed at night but he was never really with her.

When he first came back with her, she used to spend her nights wondering what would happen if she leaned across the bed and kissed him. On the fourth of July she finally did. He kissed back. Softly, briefly, with no love or passion or anything resembling the boyfriend she used to know.

After that, she used to spend her nights wondering if maybe it would be better for all of them if she told him to leave. If she did, he'd get his Newport "living with a perfect family in a beautiful pool house" life back. He'd get his skinny, pretty, popular, rich girlfriend back. He'd be happier. He'd have a real future. He wouldn't be just another minimum wage earning teenage father in Chino.

And she'd be left there without him. Again.

XXX

When he left the first time, there was no note. There were no phone calls. There was no explanation. There was just Theresa, sitting alone on her porch waiting for the blue eyed boy to ride his bike over.

He ended up coming in a Range Rover with a new girlfriend, expensive clothes and lots of awkward silences.

Looking at Marissa, Theresa promised herself that she was over Ryan. She was over him. She was over him. She ended up sitting in the kitchen talking to Marissa- showing off the picture of the Winter Dance. She pretended to be happy and not in love with Ryan.

It was like theater.

"Theresa, could you go get me my medicines please?" Her mom asked while handing Marissa a glass of water, she indicated for Theresa to leave the kitchen.

Thank you, Mom. She thought making her way to the bathroom. Her mom wasn't always her best friend, but she could always sense when Theresa wanted to get out of a room. She leaned against the wall bathroom door for a moment, taking slow deep breaths.

"Uh, you okay?"

Theresa swore she jumped three feet in the air out of fright. The voice had come from nowhere. And it was Ryan's.

"God, are you trying to kill me?"

"Sorry."

"Yeah, whatever." She muttered under her breath and turned to make her way into the bathroom. For some reason, he followed.

"What was that?" There was the slightest tinge of hurt in his voice.

"Nothing." She hoped he wouldn't press for more because she had a million things to say to him. And the dam keeping it all in had reached breaking point.

"Tee." Argh! He just had to say it didn't he? The nickname.

"Ryan, you think that just because you're quiet a lot that its an excuse for not talking when its necessary." Okay, he wanted her to talk. He would regret that. "Well, it's not. When things need to be said, you say them. Like when you're leaving. When you move to a different place. When you know you're not coming back."

"I'm-"

"You don't get to talk yet! You left me here. You just left. You abandoned me. I don't know why but you were the last person I expected to do that. But maybe I shouldn't have expected that from you. Maybe you're just like all the rest of them."

"The-"

"But it's okay, Ryan. My expectations of you are just different from everyone else's. Probably because I'm the only one that's really loved you. And if that's the problem, don't worry about it anymore, okay? Because I don't feel that way anymore."

She waited for him to say something. He didn't really need to, she could read it all in his eyes. But she wondered if he'd try and refute her. She prayed that her theater skills were still alive. He needed to believe that she already stopped loving him. She needed her dignity.

"Okay." He said softly and walked away.

Theresa closed the bathroom door, locking herself inside. In the mirror she saw a broken heart with tears begging to be free. She looked away, took out her mother's medicine and took three long breaths.

Theresa's Theater of Ryan had begun.

XXX

She couldn't continue with the fake happiness in her Theater anymore. Each smile pierced her heart a little deeper. Soon, she's be drained of everything but pain. And she couldn't let that happen. She couldn't, not with a baby on the way.

Theresa couldn't believe that Ryan had forgotten about her check-up the morning he left for Portland. It was the last straw so to speak. It was the last sign.

When Ryan took her to the pre-natal check ups, they'd play the Name Game. It was an easy way to kill time and a fun way to imagine their future child.

Ryan always took simple names like "Carlos", "David" and "Jaime".

Theresa always took meaningful names like "Faith", "Esperanza" and "Valentine".

They had a silent understanding that names like "Eddie" or "Seth" or "Marissa" weren't allowed in the game. Because those names held too many links to pain. And even as they sat around not saying those words, it hurt them to think of the faces that came with those names.

XXX

"Hello…?" It was almost three in the morning and the entire side of his face hurt like hell. Who could be calling him – on his cell phone – at this hour?

The moon shone in through the glass of the pool house doors. It was wide tonight, reflecting on the water of the infinity pool of the Cohen's backyard. If Ryan could wipe the sleep from his eyes, or pull his head up from under the pillow, he would sit at the doorway of his little pool house and admire nature's glory.

But it was almost three in the morning, and he was wrapped tightly among his blankets. An ice pack was melting slowly on the night stand. The cell phone held loosely in his left hand.

"Ryan?"

The surprise could have made him jump three feet in the air. Last night they shared a bed (among other things), this evening he got in a fight with her jealous ex, tonight he went to her motel and was faced with nothingness.

"Theresa?" It was an exclamation and a question. A name and a feeling.

"I…uh…I…" she stammered. "I'm sorry."

"Where are you?" He was still coming to terms with the fact that she had left.

"Chino."

"With him?" Ryan's voice was coated in bitterness and resentment.

"I had to. He would have come back again and really hurt you." Theresa explained, her voice strained as she spoke the last few words. If Ryan was completely awake, he would have sensed her crying.

"I can take care-" He argued his ability to defend himself.

"I know you can, but I'd… I mean, if anything happened to you…" She stammered, her crying a little more obvious now.

"So that's why you're with him?" Ryan asked, dull in defeat.

"You make it sound worse than it is."

"Do I?"

"Yeah, you do. I'm sorry Ryan. I really am. But I'm doing this for you." She whispered, breathy and sad. "I've got to go." She pulled the phone away from her ear.

"Theresa, wait…" He exclaimed, wondering if he should reason with her to come back.

"It was no one, Eddie." Ryan realized that Theresa wasn't listening anymore.

Click.

XXX

Theresa went to the doctor's after driving Ryan to the airport. He had insisted that she shouldn't, he would just take a cab. But she told him to shut up and get in the car. Smiling, he hopped into the front seat and fastened his seatbelt.

Death Cab for Cutie played as they drove. Neither one said anything.

For the first time since Ryan came home with this CD in his bag, Theresa finally listened to the lyrics. I should have given you a reason to stay. She snorted. The blonde boy seated next to her had too many reasons to stay. And yet, she was driving him away. Taking him to where he thought he should be.

He looked straight ahead, squinting slightly in the sunshine. She bit her lip as she glanced sideways. A habit she had picked up from him. She couldn't believe that he didn't belong to her anymore. He hadn't for a while. But she refused to believe it. Til now. Til it was undeniable.

He said he cared. He had. He did.

XXX

Eddie had hit her again. Fist in direct contact with her left eye. And she was in the motel room in Newport, fighting with Ryan.

"You know what happens if you go back to him."

She couldn't believe that he was begging her to stay. Okay, maybe he wasn't exactly begging but it was close enough. She couldn't believe that she was going to refuse him. Refuse the chance to live in a mansion with an infinity pool and sleep under the same roof as Ryan. But she needed to.

"I can't go with you." She whispered, looking down into her suitcase, the clothes folded neatly on top of each other.

His hand reached out and took hold of her shoulder. Her heart beat was all of a sudden louder and quicker.

"You can't let him hurt you." His voice was soft, gentle. Everything that she needed at the moment. The look in his eyes, it was pure caring. It was breaking down the barrier she just set up for herself.

"Ryan…" she sighed. "He cares about me."

"You can't believe that. You can't. Not if he hits you."

She looked up at him, tears glistening on her eyes. "What am I supposed to do then?"

"Come with me," he offered yet again. This time, he closed her suitcase and zipped it up. He took the bag in one hand and her hand in his other and lead her into the Range Rover. She wanted to protest but every time she thought of words they got caught in her throat.

What happened to her theater? To her not loving Ryan.

She couldn't stop. There was too much of everything she loved in him.

"It'll be okay," he promised. "You know how much I care about you, right?"

He squeezed her hand, reinforcing the sentiment, before finally letting go.

XXX

The doctor's appointment went well. The heartbeat was prevalent and the doctor smiled as he pointed out the baby on the sonogram screen. Theresa couldn't help but begin to cry. The doctor smiled even wider, proud that even such a young mother could shed tears of joy over a child.

Theresa wasn't crying tears of happiness. She was crying because she was pregnant and unmarried and seventeen. And her baby was never going to have a father.

She cried even more when she got home, lying on his side of the bed, smelling the pillow that still held his scent, staring blankly at the picture of the two of them on the bedside table. They looked happy in the picture. But that was an act of theater on his part. She could tell.

They spent their younger years in theater performances together and now, when they were old enough to be honest and sincere, they were playing theater games again. She pretended not to love him and he pretended to be happy with her.

Well, she was putting an end to that. Once and for all, she would put an end to that.

The phone call, the lies, the rehearsed lines, the dramatic pauses. Never had acting been so difficult for her. Never had she needed to perform so well.

She loved him. She loved him. She loved him so much that she could literally feel her heart twist and ache as she told him not to come back to Chino. And though she knew that she was doing what was best for him, she still felt pangs of pain as his hurt voice asked "You don't want me to come back".

She was letting him go.

She was setting herself free. This was the decision that was best for everyone. It was crystal cleat that Ryan didn't love her. Up until July, he still called Marissa once a week when he thought Theresa was already asleep. He didn't love her. He was there because of the baby- just because of the baby. It was chivalrous and honorable of him to be there. Ryan Atwood- the white knight.

But he couldn't see that Theresa was the damsel in distress. His eyes were blind to every sign, every gesture, every act that screamed her love for him. She peeled his oranges because she loved him. Because she was the only one who knew that he hated peeling oranges that much. She loved him and he couldn't see it. She needed him and he couldn't see it.

He was unhappy and she could see it.

So she let him go. She gave up the one thing that meant everything to her.

It was the most difficult act ever. But it was the act that would finally end Theresa's Theater of Ryan.


End file.
